Woman King

CHAPTER 19

Fortunately, I didn’t have time to dwell on fortune cookie predictions, or the mysterious old woman who doled them out. My arm, while tender, was healing nicely and, as Nadia had said, the images were invisible to everyone but me. That made my next job easier, as I was off to find the head of the Democratic Party and convince him to not run a candidate against Levi.

The expression “three is a crowd” holds true for both romance and politics. A three-way race is a disaster because it splits the ballots, making it almost impossible to gain a majority of the votes. A three-way race usually results in a run-off.

I was determined to help Levi avoid that fate. I drove over to Lake Merced and found my target. As I expected, Paul Levant was ensconced on a bench, watching a regatta. No one was seated next to him, probably not a coincidence. Throwing caution to the wind, I slid alongside him on the bench. Levant, a small bag of popcorn in his hands, turned to look at me, shook his head and chuckled.

“I figured you would come to see me, sooner or later,” he said, popping a kernel into his mouth.

“You must have ESP,” I said, watching the women of the University of San Francisco glide across the water.

“Maybe,” he said, “Or maybe I read somewhere that you’re running Levi Barnes’ campaign for District Fifteen. I do try to stay current on my political news.”

“I liked it better when I thought you had magical powers,” I said, enjoying myself.

Levant handed me the bag of popcorn and smiled. “On second thought, I do have ESP, because I know exactly what you are going to ask me.”

“You do?” I asked, feigning ignorance for the sake of our conversation.

“You want to know if the party is going to support someone else for that seat,” he said. “The answer is no; no one wants it.” Levant was agitated. I wasn’t the cause, but there was an undercurrent of worry running through him; it felt old, like it had been with him for a while. “The Republicans are looking for a candidate, Olivia. They want a Tea Party rep for that seat, someone who can appeal to the conservative money in Silicon Valley and the farm belt.”

“You think a guy who writes code for Facebook games is going to vote for someone who thinks the world is flat?” I asked tartly.

Levant shook his head. “Don’t be so flip. They won’t be as obvious as that,” he said. “It will be about taxes and regulation. It will be about immigration and education, maybe a tad bit about water rights in the Central Valley. Stuff your guy is not as good at.”

“What do you mean, no one wants it?” I asked, not wanting to discuss Levi yet.

“Just what I said,” Levant replied, taking back his popcorn bag. “No one wants to take on the Tea Party, or the Republican Party. It’s impossible to raise a million dollars in this economy. At this rate, the Democrats will be lucky to keep the seats we currently have in Congress.”

Here was my opening. “Fortunately for you, money is no object for Levi Barnes. He’s prepared to spend to win. And he’s a Democrat.”

Levant shook his head. “At this point, I am glad someone is willing to run for the seat. I’m getting too f*cking old for this shit. As far as I’m concerned, a Bible’s main use is to swear in a candidate, and that’s about it. In my day, we didn’t let these fights become so personal. Your guy is walking into a shit storm of hard feelings in Washington.”

“Paul, don’t worry,” I said, feeling the need to reassure him. “Levi is a former member of Congress and a successful businessman. He can stay above the fray and he’ll be a bright star for the party…you wait and see.”

“If he can win, kid. If he can win,” Levant said, turning his gaze to the wooden boats on the water.

“Maybe if you use some of the ESP you’ve got to help us, it will be a sure thing,” I said, gathering up my belongings.

“I think I’d rather send you a check,” Levant said. “Be in touch with me about your campaign plan; the Party will support you.”

I walked to my car, but waited until I was on the road back to my house before I made the call to Levi.

“Levant is backing us,” I said, feeling jubilant. “The party will bankroll our efforts.”

“I don’t need their money Olivia,” Levi said. “I’ll tell Paul to use it for another race, for someone who needs the help.”

“We will take a little help from the party,” I said. “For one thing, it will look better if they’re seen spending some resources on us. We don’t want anyone to think our campaign is operating out there alone.”

After I hung up with Levi, I called Gabriel. He didn’t pick up, so I left him a message letting him know that I’d secured Levant’s backing. I also told him about Levant’s funny comment about the Bible, knowing he’d get a kick out of the image.

With Paul Levant’s promise in my back pocket, I was free to continue with a research project I’d started a few weeks back. It took patience, but finally one Sunday, as I was reading the entertainment section of the paper, I was rewarded. There, in a small box, was a listing for Three Blind Mice. They were playing later in the week at the Treasure Chest, a nightclub on Divisadero Street. This was my chance to see William again. Now that the campaign was on the right path, I didn’t see why anyone would object to me taking a night off. Nadia’s pronouncements aside, the truth was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more, being caught in the horrible cliché of pining for a vampire musician, or my actual yearning for him. Regardless, I was determined to see him again.

When the night of the show arrived, I was pleased Elsa had forced me into such a rigorous exercise regime. I pulled a pair of very slim black jeans out of my closet, along with a beat up pair of brown cowboy boots, and then searched in my drawer for the sexiest bra I could find. I knew I was playing with fire—not to mention being pretty presumptuous, but if there was a make-out session in my future, I wanted to be wearing the most provocative underwear possible. I rummaged around for the black T-shirt I was looking for and grabbed a khaki safari jacket off a hanger. I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. I was stylish without trying too hard. At the very least, if I missed William, I would no doubt meet someone interesting, and the truth was that I was in the mood for a little night magic.

I called a cab and within ten minutes one arrived at my doorstep. It was approaching 9:30 when the car neared the club. I began to feel nervous. What if I walked in and he was there with another woman? What if he didn’t want to speak with me? I was rethinking the whole idea when the car pulled up to the curb, but by that time it was too late. There outside, leaning against the wall in a pair of faded Levi’s and his signature cowboy hat, was William. It seemed likely he had picked up on my thoughts and knew I was coming when I got within a few blocks of the club. I sighed, realizing there would be no sneaking up on him.

As I paid the driver and stepped onto the curb, my nervousness returned. I’d never really chased a man before, and now I felt my whole life depended on what I would find when I looked into William’s eyes. I glanced up slowly, and was relieved to see he had a wide grin on his face. “Well, now,” he said emphasizing his accent. “What do we have here? Have you gone AWOL from your barracks?”

“No, sir,” I said. “I gave myself a pass for the evening.”

“Allow me to escort you in,” he said.

William took my hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze. He was wearing a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The red of the shirt accentuated his tattoos and made his hair seem to shimmer in the club’s subdued lighting. I thought that after we got inside the club he would let go of my hand, but he didn’t. He continued to hold it as he led me through the nightclub and beyond a door marked with a sign that said, “STAFF AND BAND MEMBERS ONLY.”

William greeted a security guard sitting on the other side of the doorway and then guided me along a short hallway to another door. He continued to hold my hand as he led us into a small dressing room. Inside I found his band mates lounging on a couch. They were both smoking; a bottle of Jack Daniel’s with three glasses stacked next to it sat on the table in front of them.

“Cat and Jack, this is Olivia,” William said, pouring whisky into a glass. His band mates both nodded and said hello as if they had been expecting me to show up at anytime. In fact, I could tell from their emotions that they were not the least bit surprised to see me. I was flattered, but unsure if their feelings meant he wanted to see or me, or knew eventually I’d come looking for him. William passed the bottle to Cat and then took a sip from the glass in his hand. I must have looked surprised, because William turned to me and said, “I can drink alcohol and have been known to eat lightly from time to time.”

I nodded, taking the glass from him when he offered. I took a sip of the bourbon and immediately began to cough. I don’t usually drink hard alcohol without something mixed in. William laughed.

“A tenderfoot, I see. We’ll go find you a girl drink at the bar.” He grabbed my hand again and we retraced our steps through the same set of hallways and doors. When we arrived at the bar, William was greeted by name and I soon had a rum and diet coke with lime in my hand. We were standing side-by-side at the bar. He’d ordered another shot of Jack and was slowly sipping his drink while gazing out at the stage.

“I have to go on in a few minutes,” he said. “Will you stay until I’m finished?”

I turned and laughed. “I think the better question is, will you? You have a habit of disappearing.”

William took my hand and focused his dark green eyes on mine. “I don’t plan on disappearing again.” And with that, he bowed slightly at the waist, and turned to walk onto the stage. Not long after, Cat and Jack joined him and, gracefully, they launched into a set similar to the one I had heard in the park. This time, though, I really listened to the lyrics.

I was born more than 100 years ago.

I am one of the oldest souls you’ll ever come to know.

It turned out that William was also a songwriter. Who knew vampires had so many talents? It was one of the few details I knew about him. He, on the other hand, knew a great deal more about me. I guessed that was probably not an accident. When you live so long, you have to keep yourself hidden from view. At some point people must notice you never grow old, or that you never eat food.

Yet after everything I had seen and done during the last few weeks, I was beginning to realize that most humans noticed very little. As long as their paychecks arrived and their cable television worked, they were happy to live very limited lives. It worried me that I lived in a country full of people who could be made content so easily. I suppose that’s why the Council exists, because humans are content with their ignorance.

I managed to drift off, lost in my thoughts. After a few moments I caught myself and when I glanced up, I saw that William was watching me. For the remainder of his set I focused on his performance, appreciating his skill with a guitar. He seemed to be able to make his instrument ache with sadness, and I knew without a doubt that William Ferrell had seen his share of misery. Twenty minutes later, they finished their set and were quickly besieged by friends and fans. I stayed back at the bar, unsure of my place, but it wasn’t long before William separated himself from the crowd and walked over to me.

“Don’t you want to stay with your friends?” I asked.

He shook his head. “They’re not my friends.”

“So what should we do now?” I asked, feeling a little like I was back in junior high.

“Now we get out of here,” he said, grabbing my hand. We packed up his guitar and banjo and said goodnight to his band. Once again, they did not seem at all surprised to see me leave with him.

“Did you know you would see me again?” I asked, hating myself for needing to know.

“Yes.”

“Did you expect me to come find you?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you come find me?” I asked, feeling like I was doing all the work.

“How do you know I didn’t?” he said.

“Did you stay away because of Elsa?”

“I know enough to stay out of her way. Let’s put it like that.”

“So what changed your mind?”

“Nothing. I am playing with fire, just like you are.” He said. “I wanted to make sure you had the courage to try. This life is not for the faint of heart.”

We walked outside with his gear and strolled round the block. There, parked on a nearby street, was a brand new black Subaru wagon. I laughed.

“You were expecting a black horse maybe,” he said sharply. “I’m not a character in a novel, Olivia. I live in this world, just as you do.”

“Ouch,” I said, laying my hand over my heart. “I laughed because it seems like such a practical car. I was expecting something more rebellious. Like a motorcycle.”

“A motorcycle,” he said. “Darlin, those things will kill you.”

I laughed, once again reminded of how much I liked his sense of humor. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door so I could climb in. I realized I had no idea where we were going, but I could wait to find out.

Moments later, after passing through the Castro and past Dolores Park, we were pulling into the driveway of a lovely Victorian home on the edge of the Mission. William pressed the button on an opener fastened to the sunshade of his wagon and pulled inside the garage. From there he led me up a set of stairs.

William lived in a very old, well-restored two-story home. As we reached the top of the stairs, we faced a small living room with a fireplace. The room was decorated just the way I would have done it myself: a combination of old and new, a bohemian mix of deer antlers, wooden antique furniture, and a smidgen of modern touches that respected the age of the house.

“Can I have a tour?”

William nodded and walked me from room to room. Next door to the living room was another small room that had been converted into a library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls. A brilliant red-and-orange antique Afghan carpet covered the wooden floors, which looked to be the home’s original planks. In one corner of the library sat a chocolate brown leather chair with a brass library lamp leaning over its arm. The shelves were neatly arranged, but I could see that William had been collecting books for decades.

There were first editions of Hemingway and Fitzgerald. I spied several biographies of Winston Churchill as well as an entire section of poetry by T.S. Elliott. For a reader like myself, it was mesmerizing, and I must have looked intrigued because William broke the silence with an offer to let me borrow anything that interested me.

From there, we toured the rest of the house. There were two bedrooms on the main level, both decorated to look like guest rooms. On the floor above, there was a large loft space with an enormous round bay window in the center of the room, and surprisingly, several skylights had been cut into the ceiling. There were lovely blackout shades made from a rich fabric bolted into the skylights. But for now, because it was evening, the blinds were open, leaving us a clear view of the full moon in the night sky. There was no bed in the room, just an old drafting table that had been converted to a desk. There were more bold rugs on the floor, and a set of leather chairs that looked to be companions to the one in the library.

The most striking aspect of the room was the collection of guitars and banjos on display. He had at least five acoustic guitars sitting on stands in the room, as well as three or four more banjos, also on stands. A brand new Denon turntable on a small table sat next to the instruments. A series of storage racks with hundreds of vinyl albums was nearby. Like his library, William’s taste in music looked to be varied and wide-ranging. John Coltrane, Zeppelin, and Willie Nelson were sitting side-by-side, along with Serge Gainsbourg, the Jam, and the Clash. I smiled inwardly at the depth and variety. This was clearly the room where William spent most of his time. The space was full of his calm energy and it was obvious to see from the design that he did everything in his power to create and maintain that sense of peace.

We walked back downstairs and into a kitchen that could have passed muster with any editor at Sunset magazine. The sunken white porcelain sink and 6-burner Wolf range complemented the large stainless steel refrigerator, which most likely would be empty.

“Cook many big meals?” I teased.

“As you know, I am not much of an eater,” he drawled back. “I have a small property management business, and over the years, I have acquired a few investment properties in San Francisco and other cities. One day I might sell or rent this house. It will be more valuable with a working kitchen.”

“I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave here,” I said, thinking of the beautiful home my grandmother had given me. “I have a nice old house, too. My grandmother left it to me in her will. I hope to live in it until I …” I was about to say more, but then I stopped.

“It’s OK,” William coaxed. “You want to stay in the house until you die. You are human, Olivia. You can discuss your life in a normal way.”

“I didn’t want to seem insensitive. I have no idea how you feel about being a vampire.”

“Living forever has many advantages,” William remarked thoughtfully. “I have amassed a lot of interesting objects and wealth. But there are moments when time does drag on.”

“Are you going to tell me how you became a vampire?” I asked, hoping there was a bottle of wine and a fireplace in my future. I must have pushed that wish out very strongly because William immediately followed up with “red or white?” I chose red, a lovely 2008 Pinot Noir from the Russian River, and we went back to the living room to sit down.

“The fireplace doesn’t work,” William said. “And now there are so many laws about when you can burn wood that I have not bothered to have it repaired. The last thing I need is someone knocking on my door to cite me for burning wood.”

We sat down on a very comfortable chocolate brown leather couch—I was beginning to detect a theme in his tastes—and he poured us both a glass of wine. I was using all of my self-control not to blurt out the long list of questions I had for him: How old are you? Where are you from? How did you come to live in San Francisco?

I was sitting at one end of the couch, using the corner as a sort of brace. I had no idea what to do. Should I sit closer to him? Should I stay away? Was it hard for him to be around a human and not want to drink their blood? My mind, I was beginning to realize, gave off strong signals to those who knew enough to pay attention. I was hoping he would say something before I burst with pent up anticipation.

“My goodness, you are having a go of it over there,” he said. “Try to relax, Olivia. I promise to tell you everything you want to know, but first I want something from you. If we’re going to do this, share our secrets, then I want something from you in return.”

“What do you want?”

“I want a kiss,” he said smiling. “You and I, we’re making a deal of sorts…and I want a kiss to seal the bargain that we will keep each other’s secrets.”

A kiss? How dangerous could that be? In my short but intense training in magic 101, I’d never heard of a kiss being any sort of binding contract. If you discounted the fact that I was agreeing to kiss a man who appeared to have been dead for more than a century, while sitting alone in his living room, with no way to get myself out, or drive myself home, then yes, the request seemed rather harmless.

“OK,” I said.

“OK?” William replied.

“What do you want me to say?”

He looked slightly wounded. “Madam, I have kissed other women before and usually they have shown a little more enthusiasm.”

It turned out that even the undead have egos, but I was more willing to ease his mind. “I have not stopped thinking about you since the moment you kissed me in the park,” I said, taking a sip of wine for courage. “It’s possible that I am being quite irresponsible, but of course I want to kiss you. I want to do much more than that. But at the same time, I feel that I’m completely out of my depth. You have to admit this is all a little out of the ordinary.”

“No, darlin. I don’t think so,” he said. “That’s not the way I see it. I am a man who wants to kiss a pretty woman, and that is something that hasn’t changed since the dawn of time.”

And then in a blink of an eye he was right next to me, kissing me again in that way that made my lips feel like they would catch fire. This time, though, I was prepared and I kissed him back with equal intensity. His lips were cool to the touch, which was initially a bit disconcerting, but as I grew hotter, the coolness was soothing.

As we continued kissing, his hands explored my back and made tentative advances toward the front. I felt more than ready for him to slip his hand under my shirt. I had been exploring his body, marveling it how lean and hard it felt. I was certain he could pick up on my thoughts and I reached to unbutton his flannel shirt.

William pulled back from my advance. “Olivia, you are a handful,” he said, making a noise that almost sounded like the exhaling of breath. “There is no rush. I haven’t even told you my story yet. There will be plenty of time for us to get to know each other better. Besides, taking a vampire lover is a complicated business, and you may want to know more before you sign up for that responsibility.”

Honestly, I would have signed over the deed to my house at that point. I was so aroused, it took a few moments for his words to even register in my brain. I have never much good at delayed gratification; it is one of my weaknesses.

Still, he had a point. I didn’t know anything about taking a vampire as a lover, but honest to God, at that moment, nothing sounded better. Then I thought of Elsa and her reaction if she believed I’d slept with William. Reluctantly, I came back to Earth.

“OK,” I said, taking his hand. “You’re right. And I do want to hear your story.” William poured us both more wine and began to speak.

“You know my name is William Ferrell. My full name is William Aubrey Ferrell. I was born in Tullahoma, Tennessee in 1830. My father was a farmer who left South Carolina and took work with the railroad. I was one of six brothers and sisters. As you can imagine, we were pretty poor. We had some land to grow our food and raise a few chickens, but it was a difficult life. I was born in the house we lived in. When I grew older, I trained as a carpenter and made decent money for the family making furniture and repairing things for the people in our village.

“I started playing music when I was a child,” he continued. “There was a man in town with a guitar and he taught me how to play in the spare moments when I wasn’t helping my mother tend to my brothers and sisters. I made my first guitar myself out of some extra wood I was given for a job. I carried that guitar with me everywhere. In fact, it was with me in Louisiana when I died.”

Once again I heard William make a noise that sounded similar to breathing. He was occupied with the past now, and I could feel his emotions becoming more intense. “When the war broke out, there was no question whose side I would be on. I served in the nineteenth Tennessee Infantry. By then, I had moved to Knoxville, where there was more work. I joined in the spring of 1861.”

While I found his story captivating, I was also doing the math in my head. We were sitting in William’s living room in late September of 2011, which meant I was sharing a couch with a 181 year-old vampire. There was no doubt, I mused silently, that I was making the moves on a much older man.

“One year later I was dead,” William continued. “I died in Louisiana at the Battle of Baton Rouge.”

“You don’t have to tell me any more,” I said taking his hand in mine. “At least not tonight.”

“Actually I’m fine,” he said, looking intently at me with his mossy green eyes. “I haven’t told anyone the story of my life for a very long time. Truthfully, it’s nice that you want to know.”

“I do, very much,” I said.

“So, we were in Baton Rouge. We had started with 1,000 strong men, but by the time we arrived, there were barely 100 healthy souls remaining in the division. We arrived with no tents and little gear. Many of the men had neither coat nor shoes. Imagine, walking for days on end, your feet bloody and raw. There was no food, and our bellies ached with hunger. Many were ill with dysentery. The filth and disease were overwhelming. The horror of watching your brothers, cousins and friends killed or maimed. I think for some it was probably a blessing to be killed.

“Did you feel that way?”

William shook his head. “No. After all the death and destruction I’d seen, I didn’t care much about winning or honor, but I didn’t want to die. I wanted to survive and go back home to my family.”

“Did you? Survive the war?”

“Sadly, no,” William replied. “I remember the day of the battle very clearly. It was very humid and also foggy. The air was heavy and wet and I couldn’t make out the landscape beyond my feet. It was a bloodbath; almost five hundred men were killed on the battlefield, out of two thousand, maybe three thousand soldiers. I remember lying on the ground, listening to the screams of the wounded, while civilians from town ran their hands through my pockets looking for valuables. There I was, 32 years old, miles away from my family, and I had never even kissed a girl.”

“Wait. What do you mean, you’d never kissed a girl?”

William chuckled. “Women were not quite so fast as they are today. And I was too shy to say anything. And then there was the fact that I was too poor to offer for a lady’s hand anyway. What would I have given her? I had barely enough money for the roof over my head. In those days there were few women from good families who would have consented to marry me.”

It was a shocking story, but did make sense. It also made my kisses all the more intriguing. “I guess you learned to kiss after you became a vampire,” I said, hoping for more of his story.

“I did, but I haven’t had the wild life you may imagine. Anyway, I was turned right there on the battlefield. I had been lying on the ground for a while, having been shot several times in my leg. It must have hit an artery because I started to bleed out. There was no doctor in the camp and no medics to come and help me. Believe me, as bad as war is today, at least soldiers have the proper tools and support in battle.

“My second father was a Union officer. I mistook him for a priest because he came so close to me. I thought he had come to take my confession. Of course he had something different in mind. He told me that I was minutes away from dying, but that he could save me. He asked if I wanted to see the world, live a life of endless travel and immortality. I felt my limbs growing cold as the blood left my body and I knew I had little time left to live.”

“Were you scared?”

“Of course,” he said. “I was human like you and as afraid of death as anyone, but I was also intrigued. As a poor man in Tennessee, my life’s prospects were limited. What my new father offered was a life beyond what fate had in store.”

“So you agreed?”

“I did, and I walked out of Baton Rouge the next day and on to a new life.”

“Where did you go?”

“Paris. It was an interesting time to be abroad and my new father was convinced that the United States would never evolve into a civilized country.”

“So you speak French?” I asked, feeling odd at the way our lives seemed so neatly connected.

“Oui, je parle français, et toi?”

“Oui. Bien sûr.”

“Bon,” he said. “If you’re nice to me, maybe we will visit France together.”

I was ready to be very nice to him. I was also very tired. I looked at my watch and realized that it was after midnight. I didn’t want to go home, though. I didn’t want to leave William. Once again, he was not far behind my thoughts.

“You can sleep here tonight. As you can see, I don’t have a bed in my room. I don’t normally sleep, but you can use one of the guest rooms.”

I suddenly had a vision of being one of many who walked down that path. I must have made a face, because William took my hand.

“I am flattered at how popular you think I am, but the fact is I’ve never brought a woman home with me. You’re the first.”

His confession was my undoing. Baton Rouge, dysentery, never being kissed; I considered that maybe it was all a fabulous lie to seduce me. But I was holding out hope that it wasn’t. Regardless, my emotions got the better of me and I burst into tears, overwhelmed. I knew I was in serious danger of falling in love with an old Southern gentleman. OK, an old dead gentleman, but there was no doubt he was different then anyone I’d ever met. I managed to get out an “I’m sorry,” before he picked me up and carried me to one of the guest bedrooms. He pulled down the sheets and laid me on the bed. With little difficulty he pulled off my boots and tucked me in.

“You see, Olivia,” he said gently. “I told you there is a lot to consider when you bring a vampire into your life.” I nodded, but said little else. I was asleep in seconds.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, it took me a few minutes to realize where I was. I was still in my clothing from the night before; everything was buttoned and snapped into place. I glanced at the watch on my wrist, horrified that it was already 9:30 in the morning.

Horribly off schedule, I jumped out of bed and opened the door of the bedroom. I padded down the hall to the bathroom and freshened up. When I came out I heard the sound of guitar coming from upstairs. Slowly, I climbed the steps and walked into the loft. It was a lovely image, and I worked hard to keep my mouth from hanging open.

There, sitting in one of the leather chairs was William, shirtless, a guitar in his lap. His red hair was loose around his shoulders, and as he leaned forward to play his guitar, I could see more of the tattoo work on his back. There was an enormous angel with its wings outstretched across his shoulder blades. It was magnificent work, and I wondered whether the angel was in honor of the man that saved him that day on the battlefield, or for something else.

“Good morning,” I said, knowing he was aware of my presence.

“Hello, sleepy head,” he drawled. “I was beginning to worry you would snooze the day away.”

“It seems I might have. I don’t remember sleeping so deeply for a long time.”

“You got an earful last night,” William said. “I can imagine it was a bit of a shock. How are you feeling?”

“I feel great,” I said, and I meant it. I was happy to have found William. I knew it was going to make all of the rest of what I had to do more complicated, but I didn’t care.

“Mind if I come over and say hello?” I asked.

William set down his guitar and opened his arms. I came and sat on his lap and lay my head on his shoulder.

“Do you sleep?”

“Not so much,” he said, adjusting his body to accommodate me.

I was eager to feel his skin against my body. He smelled delicious, lemony, like a very sweet sugary lozenge, with a hint of rosemary. I sat there for a while not saying anything, sitting in the cocoon of his body. I’m not sure how long we sat in the chair together. Time stopped. We kissed, but it was nothing urgent. After a few moments, we paused to talk, revealing the small details of our lives.

I told him more about my campaign and described Levi and explained how I had worked for him before. I didn’t mention the Council. I’m not sure why. I had a feeling that maybe this thing between us was too fragile to be laden down with such complicated issues. In fact, it all felt a little complicated. I’d never spent the night at a man’s home before where we didn’t have sex. I’d never spent the night at a vampire’s house. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was out of time to wonder. I looked at my watch and thought of the long list of obligations I had pending. I was long overdue at work.

“I have to go,” I said. “I don’t want to, but I am really running late for what will be a very busy day.”

“Can I see you again?” was his reply, which sounded so normal that I laughed.

“Forgive me,” I said. “It’s just that this sounds like the conversation any man or woman would have. Are you asking me out on a date?”

“I am asking you on a date,” he said, crossly. “Please keep in mind, darlin, that I’m not a character in a pulp-fiction novel. I won’t be using mind control to lure you to my side.”

“Bummer,” I said. “What about bats? Will you be flying in my window like Gary Oldman?”

My remark seemed to defuse the moment. I had no desire to offend him and I was relieved when he shook his head and smiled.

“No bats, no flying. I have none of those tricks up my sleeve. I meant what I said last night. I’m simply a man who wants to date a pretty woman.”

“You are a man who drinks blood,” I said looking him in the eye. “That does seem like a topic worth discussing.”

To his credit, William did not break our gaze. “I might take a taste, but I will not drink your blood unless you offer it to me, and even then I might refuse.”

“How do you survive if you don’t drink human blood?”

William turned away slightly from me as he spoke. “I do not need to eat as often as young vampires do.”

“Yes, well you are 181 years old,” I cut in.

William smiled. “I can see you’re good at math. So when you are as old as I am, you do not need to feed daily.”

“But when you do feed, what do you drink?” I asked. “And why wouldn’t you drink from me if I offered?”

“When I first became a vampire, my hunger was overpowering, but now I can survive for weeks without feeding. When I do need to eat, I drive up into the hills and search for wildlife. Deer are plentiful nearby so I never have much of a problem.”

“I saw you drink alcohol last night.”

“Interesting, isn’t it? All of the myths about vampires and most of them are as untrue as we are undead. Alcohol is something I’ve grown accustomed to over the years. Newly made vampires require a lot of blood to survive. Alcohol is too disruptive to their nervous system. But later, as you are able to feed less, you can introduce other forms of pleasure back into your life. For me, its whisky, sometimes wine. I like to eat raw fish and meat occasionally. It’s good to blend in with people and eating and drinking makes it easier to disappear in a crowd.

“As for you,” he continued. “You might offer your blood to me for all of the wrong reasons,” he continued. “Drinking your blood would bind you to me, and that, darlin, is a permanent thing.”

“But if I offered?” I said, a hint of pleading slipping into my voice.

“I would have to be certain,” he said. “It’s a different life, a complicated life. Unless I was convinced you understood the responsibility, I wouldn’t accept. Vampires don’t share, Olivia. We don’t compromise, and we’re not very patient.”

I wasn’t ready to let him drink, but being stubborn by nature, his lecture was igniting a challenge within me.

“Then why are we doing all of this?” I asked.

“I can see I got your back up a bit,” he said. “Don’t mistake my intentions. I want to be with you, Olivia. But after 180 years on this earth, I have had my share of heartbreak.”

He meant it. I felt his sadness, really, his disappointment. To be alive for almost two hundred years must have meant a few bad relationships. I nodded, and kissed him gently to convey I understood.

William quickly dressed and dropped me at my house. I would have invited him in, but I knew Elsa might be there and I really needed to get to work, so we said our goodbyes. As I walked in the door, he sent me a text asking me if I would join him in two nights for a paddleboat ride at Stow Lake. It was so old-fashioned and romantic, I accepted right away. Unfortunately, my exuberance at being in the midst of a full-blown romance ran straight into a wall of disapproval standing in my kitchen. Elsa was there, decked out in black leather pants with an actual silver dagger stuck in one of her boots. Lily was standing next to her.

“Lily, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“Elsa texted me when you didn’t come home last night,” she said, looking sheepish. Being a mother hen did not suit her at all. I turned to face my housemother.

“What’s this all about, Elsa? What did you think had happened to me?”

Elsa was angry but also relieved. I’m not sure what she thought had happened to me, but she was experiencing real relief that I was home safely. I hadn’t told either of them where I was going. I didn’t want company, and I had not wanted anyone to try to talk me out of being with William. Looking back, my secrecy was probably impractical.

Elsa didn’t reply, so I posed another question. “I suppose you both want to know where I was last night.” Two heads nodded in unison.

Elsa spoke first, “Why didn’t you leave word where you were going?” Lily looked pensive, as if she knew bad news was coming. She was worried about a conflict between the three of us.

“I should have left a note, or texted one of you,” I said. “But can I ask why you were so worried? What did you think happened to me?”

Elsa didn’t want to tell me exactly. Her fury was dying down a bit, but she continued to restrain herself. “Olivia, you are the only human agent working at the Council and you’ve been the target of a demon attack. Gabriel, errr, I mean, you report directly to the director. Anything could have happened to you. There are plenty of people who would be interested in your talents and connections.”

It sounded reasonably plausible. I wasn’t alone anymore. I was a part of a team. “Look,” I said raising my palms up in surrender. “I am sorry. I should have checked in. Next time I will be more considerate.”

Lily was relieved. Fairies didn’t like conflict. But Elsa wasn’t finished. “Are you going to tell us where you have been?”

“I was with William,” I said, my chin up slightly in a defiant pose. Now we were back to two against one. Lily and Elsa were exchanging glances that spoke of serious handwringing.

“You spent the night…with a…vampire?” Elsa asked.

“Yes and no,” I said, resenting the tawdry emphasis. “I slept at his house, as in a pillow and a blanket, not with, you know, him.”

Lily was craning her neck to get a good look at mine.

“No, he did not drink my blood.”

This was met with more raised eyebrows and sideways glances.

“Really. He did not ask, and I did not offer.” This caused them both to calm down, but I resented the image they had painted. “I need to take a shower and jump in my car to get down to Palo Alto, but I want to tell you both something before I leave. William isn’t the villain you imagine. I scanned the newspaper advertisements every Sunday looking for a listing for his band. I took the taxi, unannounced, to his show. And I am the one who pushed to have sex…and he turned me down. I chased him.”

This seemed to catch Lily by surprise. “Olivia, honey,” she said gently. “Are you sure you want to go for something so complicated for your first serious boyfriend?”

Ouch. Leave it to my best friend to state the obvious. Of course, I hadn’t planned on having a boyfriend. I hadn’t planned on a century-old vampire catching my heart.

“William is different,” I said, sounding like a cliché. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. He is intelligent and funny…”

“He’s dead,” Elsa said, interrupting me. “He drinks human blood. Can I ask where you see this thing going? Did you tell him about the Council, about your work?” It was clear Elsa didn’t like vampires. She didn’t seem to trust them. It was a deep-set feeling that I didn’t think I could change at the moment. So I didn’t try.

“I’m not sure where it’s going,” I said. “He doesn’t know about the Council. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a campaign meeting.”